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Authors: Lauraine Snelling
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hung.
“Yessuh?” Lucinda stopped in the doorway.
“Is Miss Jesselynn to home?”
“Yessuh. Who I tells her is callin’?” “Jonathan from Creekside.”
“Wait here.” Lucinda began to climb the stairs.
Jesselynn waited until Lucinda was halfway up the stairs before she looked up. “That’s right kind of you, ma’am, but you won’t find her up there.”
Lucinda stopped with one foot on the upper riser. She looked down over the shiny walnut banister, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. “Well, I never …” Heaving a sigh, she came back down the stairs. “Such a trick to play on ol’ Lucinda.” Jesselynn breathed a sigh of relief. If she could fool Lucinda, anyone else would be easy.
“Let’s get the dye, all right?”
“Lawsy, what dis world comin’ to?” Lucinda continued to shake her head as she made her way toward the back of the house. “I boiled up some walnut husks an’ we see what happen.” The sniff at the end made Jesselynn wonder if tears weren’t clogging her mammy’s throat as they were her own.
Jesselynn gathered the last of her things, her father’s journal, and the precious ink bottle. When she walked by the mirror, she didn’t even recognize herself. Were her hair not so straight and brown, she might have passed for one of the mulattos. She brushed walnut-colored hair back, but it fell forward onto her brow. Her hat would have to keep it back.
The grandfather clock in the hall struck eleven as they gathered for a final prayer. Sobs from some of the house slaves broke the silence as Jesselynn bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, we commit our lives into thy hands. Keep those of us on the road safe and those at home as well.” She stopped and swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat and keep the tears at bay. She knew if she broke down, there would be such wailing that it would be heard clear to Lexington. “Please set your legions of angels in charge over us all. If it be thy will, bring Zachary safely home again.” Oh, how she wanted to pray for God to take care of Cavendar Dunlivey in a permanent way. “Protect us from those who set to do us harm, we pray in thy holy name, amen.”
“Missy Jesse?”
She whirled and, taking a step forward, glared up at Meshach. “You mean Marse Jesse!”
“Yessum—ah, suh.” Meshach studied the wrinkled brim of his hat. The sound of a nighthawk called from the front portico. “Dat mean all is clear.”
“All right.” She turned to the others. “Now, you all know what you have to do. You will all refer to June as Miss Jesse, even when inside the house, in case Dunlivey makes it through those posted as guards. Everything will go on as usual here. If someone comes calling for me, say that I am indisposed or gone to town or something.” She looked around the circle to make sure everyone nodded.
“All right, Ophelia, go get Thaddy. You and he will sleep in the back of the wagon.”
“Yessum.”
“What?” She spun on the slave as if to strike her.
“Yessuh.” Ophelia ran up the stairs without looking back.
Dear God, if we manage this, it will be a miracle for sure .
Chapter Five
On the trail
September 18, 1862
Unlike Lot’s wife, Jesselynn knew she didn’t dare look back.
The squeak of the wagon wheels sounded like children screaming as they passed the two stone pillars and turned onto the road from the long drive of Twin Oaks. She didn’t need to see the copper plaque posted on one to know what it said. TWIN OAKS. Established 1789 by Joshua A. Highwood. The two trees from which the plantation garnered its name stood sentinel at the junction as they had for longer than her family’s memory. Story had it that her great-grandfather had picnicked under those trees the day his land grant was signed and delivered. His journal had described them as “two oaks, nearly perfect a match in size and shape, huge and majestic beyond description, offering shade for the weary, a home for birds and squirrels, and
“Yessuh?” Lucinda stopped in the doorway.
“Is Miss Jesselynn to home?”
“Yessuh. Who I tells her is callin’?” “Jonathan from Creekside.”
“Wait here.” Lucinda began to climb the stairs.
Jesselynn waited until Lucinda was halfway up the stairs before she looked up. “That’s right kind of you, ma’am, but you won’t find her up there.”
Lucinda stopped with one foot on the upper riser. She looked down over the shiny walnut banister, rolled her eyes, and shook her head. “Well, I never …” Heaving a sigh, she came back down the stairs. “Such a trick to play on ol’ Lucinda.” Jesselynn breathed a sigh of relief. If she could fool Lucinda, anyone else would be easy.
“Let’s get the dye, all right?”
“Lawsy, what dis world comin’ to?” Lucinda continued to shake her head as she made her way toward the back of the house. “I boiled up some walnut husks an’ we see what happen.” The sniff at the end made Jesselynn wonder if tears weren’t clogging her mammy’s throat as they were her own.
Jesselynn gathered the last of her things, her father’s journal, and the precious ink bottle. When she walked by the mirror, she didn’t even recognize herself. Were her hair not so straight and brown, she might have passed for one of the mulattos. She brushed walnut-colored hair back, but it fell forward onto her brow. Her hat would have to keep it back.
The grandfather clock in the hall struck eleven as they gathered for a final prayer. Sobs from some of the house slaves broke the silence as Jesselynn bowed her head. “Heavenly Father, we commit our lives into thy hands. Keep those of us on the road safe and those at home as well.” She stopped and swallowed hard, trying to clear her throat and keep the tears at bay. She knew if she broke down, there would be such wailing that it would be heard clear to Lexington. “Please set your legions of angels in charge over us all. If it be thy will, bring Zachary safely home again.” Oh, how she wanted to pray for God to take care of Cavendar Dunlivey in a permanent way. “Protect us from those who set to do us harm, we pray in thy holy name, amen.”
“Missy Jesse?”
She whirled and, taking a step forward, glared up at Meshach. “You mean Marse Jesse!”
“Yessum—ah, suh.” Meshach studied the wrinkled brim of his hat. The sound of a nighthawk called from the front portico. “Dat mean all is clear.”
“All right.” She turned to the others. “Now, you all know what you have to do. You will all refer to June as Miss Jesse, even when inside the house, in case Dunlivey makes it through those posted as guards. Everything will go on as usual here. If someone comes calling for me, say that I am indisposed or gone to town or something.” She looked around the circle to make sure everyone nodded.
“All right, Ophelia, go get Thaddy. You and he will sleep in the back of the wagon.”
“Yessum.”
“What?” She spun on the slave as if to strike her.
“Yessuh.” Ophelia ran up the stairs without looking back.
Dear God, if we manage this, it will be a miracle for sure .
Chapter Five
On the trail
September 18, 1862
Unlike Lot’s wife, Jesselynn knew she didn’t dare look back.
The squeak of the wagon wheels sounded like children screaming as they passed the two stone pillars and turned onto the road from the long drive of Twin Oaks. She didn’t need to see the copper plaque posted on one to know what it said. TWIN OAKS. Established 1789 by Joshua A. Highwood. The two trees from which the plantation garnered its name stood sentinel at the junction as they had for longer than her family’s memory. Story had it that her great-grandfather had picnicked under those trees the day his land grant was signed and delivered. His journal had described them as “two oaks, nearly perfect a match in size and shape, huge and majestic beyond description, offering shade for the weary, a home for birds and squirrels, and
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